


From Kukuru Mountain

by orphan_account



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Gen, Post-Chairman Election Arc, Separation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:39:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27780124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Seven years later, Killua contemplates what he should be doing, wonders why his freedom feels like a punishment.
Relationships: Canary & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Kudos: 31





	From Kukuru Mountain

**Author's Note:**

> I've begun to love Killua with all my heart

Up on Kukuru Mountain, Killua can see it all. He sees the butler's quarters, the training grounds, miles of forest he has never cared enough to explore. But more importantly, he can see the bus stop that travels right outside the entrance. The idiots that take pictures of the gates, gape openly at the mansion as though it's a zoo and the Zoldycks are their show monkeys. He can see Gon, climbing out and rushing blindly, not even thinking to look up and reconsider. He can see himself, leaving with Gon and entering the dingy bus side by side, elated.

  
  
  


It was that simple seven years ago. Just wait for Gon. Now, it feels ridiculous. Like he's a dumb princess in one of those awful movies he pretends to like for Alluka. He wonders if Gon looks anything like those dumb princes. Five years can alter you beyond recognition, so who can say.

  
  
  


Illumi is old enough now that he has matters entirely unrelated to Killua to worry about. He would say he's relieved, but he wouldn't give Illumi too much credit. If he knows his brother, he knows there's some microscopic pin lodged in his brain to GPS track him. Killua is too tired to care now, though it's not like his location is ringing any alarms.

He's stuck, sitting on his childhood bunk bed, swinging his legs and thinking. Illumi could return and have his way with Killua, and he wouldn't have any right to protest

  
  
  


He's back to doing nothing, waiting for something else to give him purpose. He can't get on the bus just yet, up and go.

  
  
  


Alluka calls him as frequently as she can, which is something like every two hours. Apparently, there's not much to do while traveling the world. Killua gets it . They tried together once and realized the world just wasn't made to be experienced completely. Think you've covered an entire continent, and one more unknown place springs up, corners furling from where they once were like a fitted sheet on a too big mattress. Killua gave up, Alluka didn't. What that says about him, Killua already knows.

  
  
  


He flops backwards, counts the cracks in his ceiling. There didn't used to be that many. If the ceiling comes caving in one day in his sleep, he knows Milluki is to blame for it. He definitely doesn't like sharing the place with Killua. And it makes sense. The manor is where he made his life, where he intends to stay because that's what he chose. Killua didn't choose this, he flung himself to the place he knew best and curled into its warmth. A parasite. A leech. Milluki is right to try and kill him- a concussion from falling plaster might do Killua some good.

  
  
  


He's played all the games in his room, beat the highscores on them twice over. There's a stack of unreturned manga Milluki lent him that he flips through. They're all Shonen, and all the protagonists remind him of Gon. Except, Gon was never so cheesy. Gon would never go twinkly eyed for a girl, risk everything for a flat kiss. Killua has heard Gon calmly state that women chased him from ages seven and up. That's a level of fucked up you don't see in a shonen manga, so nothing ever really comes close to replicating Gon. Nothing ever makes him sigh in wonder, a new possibility coming alive anytime Gon spoke of the world.  
  
  


Anytime that thrill feels dilute, Killua simply closes his eyes and lets the hopeful emptiness overtake him, and for the briefest moment he's reunited with the second rate Gon in the panels, soaring because it's so easy when it's just them. 

Killua sees their split, too, in the endings of the shitty Josei mangas Milluki snuk into the stack just to taunt him. The parting of ways, the bittersweet. It all leaves a gross taste in his mouth, seeing the characters act so dramatic.

  
  
  


Then he realizes, as the two lovers are almost entirely off the page, that when he flips to the next panel all there is left are credits. The story's over, their lives are continuing. All that remains is the white sheet on the hardback, looking up expectantly at Killua.

  
  
  


It's all memories, worry, and boredom, eating Killua alive. He almost, almost wishes Illumi's pin were still in his brain, honing his mind to the trade of the assassin. To accept the position of heir and move forward with no chance of turning back.

But, accepting the profession now? It would be like spitting on the last five years. It would be like tearing his hunter license in two. It would be like telling Gon nothing they did ever mattered. What would he think, what would he say? Why is he so worried about that, still. Gon is gone, and they chose for it to be that way. Gon is gone and it's his life now. 

  
  
  


The paintings of all the Zoldyck heirs line a great hallway, all ruthless and cold in expression. Silva and Zeno have their own two frames, inches apart. A passerby would never guess they were father and son. Killua envisions his own portrait, how pathetic he would look in comparison to Silva's assured posture, unyielding eyes. He knows this is what he will leave behind, no doubts permissed in his actions. His oil painted gaze looks imploringly at Killua. He grips his arm so hard he doesn't realize his claws have retracted until blood is oozing down his fingers in long drips. 

  
  
  


Reintroducing the pin would destroy all the progress, rebuke any sliver of freedom he has. Still, it would be so, so easy.

  
  
  
  


Sometimes Killua takes walks along the front garden, stepping past poison ivy and barbed roses just to get a feel of the sun. It's always a bit cold on the mountain, but today feels nice, almost tropical. Killua wanders, keeps his mind floating in some cloud beside him, looking past trees and kicking up clumps of leaves like he's looking for something. Then, the odd, too familiar sensation overpowers his senses. He's being watched. 50 meters, 40 meters, 20, 3, 1.

A small girl approaches, dressed in Zoldyck butler attire and gripping an embellished staff. Killua cannot believe he used to think Canary was slow.

  
  
  


"Hey Canary." Although her appearance doesn't bother him, it usually comes with some well meaning advice that pushes Killua to snap, toe a line of violence he hasn't crossed in so long for whatever reason. He still hates being told what to do, a nasty habit that got him nowhere.

  


"Master Killua, I sense you are in a state of confusion." Canary states, forward as possible. Killua blinks. A direct approach. The formalities are thinning between them, after all the years. It's not like they've talked much on Killua's extended stay, but he knows a number of eyes are always checking on him, sensing his state of mind. He feels Canary's intrusion the most. 

  
"I'm not, but thanks for asking," Killua shoves his hands in his pockets, looks away and opens an end to their discussion. Canary stares, eyes enough to tell Killua that he's full of shit.

  


"Can I be of any assistance?" Canary says. It's basically a plea. Zoldyck Butlers never ask to help, they are called upon. Anything more would insult the family's pride, make them feel coddled. Killua could, hypothetically, punish Canary. He tries to summon that apathy, the command that would assert authority over her and force a change in Killua's idleness. 

  


Canary waits, same face as she did when she allowed for Gon to pass through the mountain and find Killua. The same as when Killua officially left home, renouncing everything, including her. Something like shame plants in his throat, unshakeable.

  
  


Killua realizes that he can't even tell a butler off. His strength plummets to zero, any thoughts of being heir vanish like a sneeze, an expulsion of that comforting illusion.

  
  


"No. Not really, no."

  
  
  


He should just lay in bed and let the ceiling flatten him.

  
  
  


"Oh. I see. Well, I can at least take you somewhere."

Killua's mind jumps, blindsided by the proposal. An impromptu trip might start giving him dangerous ideas. Better not. 

  


The air on Kukuru Mountain slips into his lungs like a snake, curling in and out until he feels the poison seeping into him. It never felt like that before, when he had no glimpse of the future. Canary can probably sense his mounting discomfort and intrigue, patiently standing. His brows twitch, hating the thought of giving in.

  


Killua indulges. "Really? Where?"

Canary doesn't respond, simply offers her arm to Killua. She smiles up at him. Killua grins, slouches a bit to meet her height and hook their arms. Canary's growth is stunted in comparison to Killua's impressive spurt. No surprise there.

  
  
  


The two set off at a speed akin to lightning. Killua hasn't used his Nen in almost a year, but something in the way they run forces some of his long dormant aura out, little spritzes to boost their legs. A bad habit. 

Not as fast as before, Killua notes. Of course, he hasn't trained for months. He still feels disgusting, rotting like some carcass in the mansion and letting himself forget the years of excruciating training. It's frustrating, like falling off a bike as an adult, staring at the ugly bruise and wondering who the hell let you get so soft. 

  
  
  


They reach a dock, right off a local fishery that happens to be near a sweet shop Killua used to gorge himself in. He knows this place like it's his pulse. He knows instantly why Canary brought him here, and it's not for the toffee squares.

  
  


"Seven years ago, do you remember what happened here?"

  


He plays dumb for a second. Killua doesn't want to let on how much it truly meant to him. He takes a few seconds, staring at his feet sinking into the wet sand, recording every little detail of the memory. A ceaseless tunnel, him silently hovering through the heaves and labored breathes of others and finding another kid that had something to prove to the world. How could he forget? It curses him, follows him in dreams and plays itself out on blank pages. 

  


"You dropped me off here.. so that I could take the Hunter Exam."

  


Canary nods. "Yes. And do you remember what I said?" The sky is turning orange, clouds floating in the pale color like cream soda. 

  


"No. Not really." This time, he's not lying. Killua feels like an idiot, but the excitement of being on this port is electrifying, even seven years later. At twelve years old, he must have been deaf to the world, wrapped in his own vision of the title. A Hunter. How Killua ever forgot, made himself forget, something so monumental is horrifying to consider.

  
  
  


The waves rocks gently at their feet, lapping at their shadows as Killua remembers.

  
  
  


"I said that this was the beginning of your identity. No one told you to take the exam, you chose to. All by yourself, at twelve years old. You were familiar with taking up challenges alone, but nothing like this. It was a journey you had no idea the dangers of. It was an opponent you were unsure you could defeat."

  


Killua's eyes widen. A pain shoots through his brain, and he strokes the still tender spot of his skull. Canary continues.

  


"Even with Master Illumi's pin inside you, you still could take the exam. It took me some time to understand it. Of course, I do not know all of his abilities, but this one I was quite familiar with. He instilled the logical reasoning of an assassin within you, and he made sure your decisions ultimately bent enough to his will. When you were able to take the exam without any mental distress, Master Illumi panicked and took the exam alongside you. You were beyond his power, and that was the moment he realized it." 

  


Canary brings her staff close to her heart, like pledging herself to Killua. Butlers are forbidden from picking favorites among the Zoldyck family. But no one is here to tell her off. 

  
  
  


The ocean glows under the sun, glinting like a diamond, complex shades and shapes of every form. Killua hates to call nature beautiful, because nature has done some unforgivable things. Nearly stole his best friend, made him feel smaller than an ant. Then, there was his nature, his instinct to kill that his brother and his entire family urged on, ignoring the vessel that carried it. So many things out of his control, and yet somehow the world becomes intensely vibrant before him. The horizon, so far off and black in comparison to the velvety hues up close, feels like a bigger picture. Something he could never see from his bedroom window.

  
  
  


The beginning of everything happened there, and returning to it feels like a second chance.

  
  
  


He turns to Canary. Thin, wet trails running down his cheeks. Canary blinks rapidly.

"Thank you, Canary. I don't deserve you."

  
  
  


Canary's face, always unchanging, smoothed from sparse emotion, screws up, wrinkles like a prune. She sobs loudly, tears falling to match the salty brine of the ocean air.

  
  
  
  


Kukuru Mountain is quiet most days. Not a word is uttered the morning Killua leaves. Even Milluki's snores are softer, which Killua takes as a good omen. He flits past Canary without saying goodbye, lettng her tend to the overgrown ivies without disturbance.

The bus stop is a silent place, too. But the air around it is freer. It smells like rust and old fries, pocket change and loose bills. He can't help snickering at the poor sendoff, like he's the worst Shonen hero. Killua can thank Milluki for that sentiment, returning the manga with no small amount of crude comments and drawings scribbled across the pages, hilariously pornographic. 

One more reason to get the hell off the island.

  
  
  


Killua clutches the map tighter in his palms, looking intently into the distance to find a bus pulling in, growing larger each second until it's all Killua can see. He glances down one more time as if to see if his destination is still there, hasn't vanished like he had feared for years.

He smiles. Whaletail island is still circled harshly in red, tearing the page. But, before that, there's a dozen other smaller, less important circles. If he wants to find Gon, he has to have some stories to match the ones he undoubtedly has now. Five years is a lot of time, but Killua is sure he can do whatever Gon has in two.

A loud hiss of air accompanies the open swing of the bus doors. Killua steps in, displays his Hunter License gleaming in clear plastic. The driver whistles, impressed and forgoes his fee. He sits down at an empty two seater, kicks his legs up and smiles because that is the first time he has ever done that, proven his worth so easily.  
  
  
The doors abruptly shut and the bus carries the passengers out the mountain's shadow.

**Author's Note:**

> They'll be okay


End file.
